Devon thought he would need a few stiff drinks to see him through the evening. Jesse looked stunning, tall and handsome in his charcoal suit and black shirt. It was only the anxiety in his dark eyes that revealed his nervousness. During the ride to the hotel, he reverted to the frightened child he became when faced with any difficult situation. He worried his thumbnail with his teeth until Devon took hold of his wrist and gently pulled his hand away from his mouth. He squeezed Jesse’s hand in encouragement as he led him across the busy restaurant and to the table where his mother waited for them. Erica eyed Jesse coldly as he slipped self-consciously into his seat. The half-hearted smile of greeting died on his lips beneath her steely glare and he looked to Devon for reassurance. Devon gave a small shake of his head, silently telling him not to rise to the bait. “Sweet Jesus, he’s even younger than I thought,” Erica said, addressing Devon and ignoring Jesse altogether. “I’m nineteen,”
